


Punk and in Love

by TerrorWithACapitalF



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M, Normal AU, Punk AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrorWithACapitalF/pseuds/TerrorWithACapitalF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the minutes after their joint has burned to ashes, Wade learns even more. He learns that Peter’s hands are absurdly warm, especially when they’re tucked underneath Wade’s shirt. He learns that Peter groans when his hair is pulled and he has a tendency to curse in german, especially when Wade’s fingers are brushing along the line of his hips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punk and in Love

The band on stage is absolutely awful.

Wade is willing to admit that they've got plenty of energy. The lead singer, a skinny guy with broad shoulders and a buzz-cut, has spent their entire performance moving; racing from one side of the stage to the other, tripping over cords, whipping his mic around and shaking sweat off his face. Their bassist, a girl with long blonde curls, mainly alternates between doing super impressive back bends and making eyes at the drummer, who’s slamming the sticks down so hard that Wade is just waiting for one of them to snap into splinters.

So they definitely have energy, and they definitely look like they’re enjoying themselves (except for the scowling guitarist, a tall, brawny guy with a major case of five o’clock shadow), but that doesn't negate the fact that they sound awful. There’s no consistent beat, way too much distortion and all the vigor in the world can’t change the fact that the singer sounds like a howling cat.

The worst part of all is that they’re still better than the band that played before them.

Thankfully, their set is short lived. They only play a few songs before they end with a wall of yowling, screeching noise and no matter how hard he tries, Wade can’t stop himself from wincing.

"What’d you think?"

"What?" Wade’s been surrounded by people for the last hour but he hasn't given any of them more than a cursory look. As soon as he turns to see who just yelled into his ringing ears, he wishes that he had paid more attention to his surroundings. Beside him is a young guy with pale skin, spiked dark hair and two bright red barbells through his eyebrow. He’s wearing a pink denim vest dotted with spikes and patches and he has one of the brightest smiles Wade has ever seen. Wade can’t help but feel a little bit bad about the negative answer he responds with, but there’s no way he can lie about what he just heard.

"Honestly, I thought they were pretty terrible!" he says, voice nearly getting lost under the babble of everyone around him.

"Yeah, I figured," the guy replies. Amazingly, his smile hasn't faltered a bit. "You've spent the whole night looking like someone punched you in the face."

"You noticed?" Wade asks. The guy shrugs and somehow, his smile gets even wider.

"Maybe a little bit."

"Well, what can I say?" Wade says, face warm and flushed from the guy’s comment. "Listening to both of those bands kind of felt like getting punched in the face.”

"If you don’t like the music, what brought you here?" the guy asks, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, it wasn't for the atmosphere." He’s not wrong; the venue isn't the sketchiest place Wade has ever been in, but it’s close. The floor is sticky with spilled booze, the paint on the walls is peeling and the shitty lighting system makes it difficult to see anyone who isn't on the stage or in immediate proximity.

"Definitely wasn't for that," Wade replies, shoving his mask, he originally got it to hide a numerous amount of scars he got in a fight, but now wears it for the look, away from his forehead. "I was actually supposed to meet a friend, but they ditched last minute. Seemed like a shame to waste my fake ID."

"Hey, don’t blame you." The guy looks him up and down once and then, flashing that smile again, he sticks his hand out. "I’m Peter."

"Wade." He hardly has to move to return the handshake; he doesn't know if more people have streamed into the venue or what, but he’s definitely closer to Peter than he was only moments before.

"So, what are you here for?” he asks, wincing slightly as feedback comes over the speakers. The next band have started to set up, apparently.

"Actually, I-"

"Peter!" Without any warning, someone comes flying through the crowd, bouncing into Wade before they slam into Peter. After a second, Wade realizes that it’s the singer from the last band, the guy with the buzz-cut who sings like a wounded animal. Thankfully, his speaking voice is much more tolerable.

"Dude, what did you think?" the singer asks, one arm still slung around Peter’s shoulders. "How’d the new stuff sound?"

"Awesome, man! The transition between Frankenstein and Shattered Bones was sick!"

"Really? Fuck, I was so nervous about that. Anyways, I can’t stick around, I gotta help Flash load up the van, you know how he gets. Thanks for coming, you’re the best!" He plants a massive kiss on Peter’s forehead before he jostles his way back into the crowd and as Wade watches him go, his stomach sinks.

"Fuck," he groans. "Your friend is-"

"Yeah," Peter says amiably, shrugging. "The band’s kind of his baby."

"Are you gonna punch me in the face for saying they sounded terrible?"

"Nah. They do sound terrible. They’re getting better though.”

Wade has to admit, he’s glad that he wasn't around to see the band evolve from horrific to… well, something a little less than that. When he glances back over, Peter is looking at him (studying him, it looks like), head tilted slightly, bottom lip sucked between his teeth.

"What?" Wade finally asks, unable and unwilling to stop himself from grinning.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Peter asks.

"You not going to stick around for the next band?"

"Man, you think Harry’s band was bad? They sound like rock gods compared to Blade and Carnage." That statement alone is enough to make Wade want to bolt but the grin that Peter flashes him is definitely a bonus.

"In that case, we should definitely leave.”

\--

They end up at a park just down the street. It’s mostly abandoned, aside from a few other teenagers and once they’re out of sight, Peter pulls out a joint and a lighter. They pass it back and forth, lying down on the grass and the entire time, they talk. In the moments it takes for the joint to burn down to a nub, Wade learns a lot about Peter. He learns that Peter works at a freelance job at the Daily Bugle during the day, selling pictures of himself and other teens in disguise to his boss, J. Jonah Jameson, and supports his friend’s shitty punk band at night. He wants to be “someone people’ll remember” one day, he has two black bands tattooed around his bicep and he used to play lacrosse until he broke his knee in his senior year. He’s afraid of dying and he wants to own at least three dogs once he has his own place.

In the minutes after their joint has burned to ashes, Wade learns even more. He learns that Peter’s hands are absurdly warm, especially when they’re tucked underneath Wade’s shirt. He learns that Peter groans when his hair is pulled and he has a tendency to curse in German, especially when Wade’s fingers are brushing along the line of his hips.

Mainly though, he learns that, even when his teeth are gently tugging at Wade’s lip ring, Peter never stops smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not... bad... for a first fic, right? Thanks for reading, and Spidey and Deadpool don't belong to me! (if they did it would've been Canon looooong ago so yeah)


End file.
